A Loss

Fear usually gripped my nerves I dreaded broken bottles my heart perchance be served To a wetland I could lose you Little I thought of the deadwood Ready I to send to the urn any jostler Alas the heart I guarded against the living, had a suitor waiting at the great gulf course in the sky I couldn't compete with his riz He snatched you with ease. All I have now are memories I am pained by your silence, Amy Tell me you hate it where you are,please